Joyride
by Smitty91
Summary: A trucker terroizez a collegian, his brother, and a young woman after being the victim of a practical joke.
1. CB Radio

Joyride

Chapter 1

"No one said college would be so hard, you know," Jeanette said on the other line.

Simon nodded his head. "Yeah." He lied on his bed, legs crossed, head pillowed on his hand. His gaze was directed towards the ceiling. A smile came across his face as he heard Jeanette's voice.

"I'm not keeping you awake, am I?" Jeanette asked worriedly.

Simon shook his head. "No, no, no. Of course not." He heard a groan from across the room, followed by a light switching on. He tilted his head forward and saw his roommate, a red fox rubbing his eyes as he sat up.

"Simon, I've got a test in the morning," the red fox declared.

"I'm sorry, Tom," Simon apologized. "I'll be quieter." He felt around on his nightstand, knocking over empty cans of Dr. Pepper and other items. Fianlly looking over, he discovered a CD player. He grabbed it and tossed it, and the pair of headphones that came with it, over to the red fox. The red fox gave a smile of gratitude and placed the headphones over his pointed black-tipped red ears.

"Simon, are you still there?" Jeanette asked.

"Yes, I'm still here," Simon remarked, getting back into his lying position.

"I just wish we could go out somewhere, you know," she continued. "You and me, the roof down, the wind blowing in our faces . . . ."

As Jeanette continued to talk, Simon opened his drawer and looked through it before pulling out a pair of plane tickets. "I have a car," he told her.

"No, you don't," Jeanette argued.

"Yeah, didn't I tell you?"

"No."

"Yeah, well, I got one."

"Change of plans for spring break," Simon told Theodore on the phone as he drove down the highway. "I'm going to stop on my way home and pick up Jeanette."

"Well, just be careful," Theodore said.

Simon detected some sadness in his voice. "Theo, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, it's just . . ."

"Just what?"

"Alvin. He got arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct . . . again."

"What did Dave say?"

Theodore shook his head and smiled. "You know Dave. He said if Alvin hasn't grown up by now, it's never going to happen."

Simon chuckled. "Alvin . . ." He checked his map after getting off the phone with Theodore to make sure that he was going the right way. Realizing that he wasn't, he performed a U-turn and began going the other way, turning onto an on-ramp and began going down a highway. Hearing sirens, he looked in his rear-view mirror to discover that he was being followed by a policeman. He hit his steering wheel in a fit of rage. "Damn it!" How could he have been so stupid?! He should have known better! Shaking his head and grumbling under his breath, he pulled over to the side and waited for the policeman to approach him.

"Do you know why I pulled you over?" the policeman inquired.

"Sorry," Simon apologized. "That whole U-turn deal wasn't necessary. You see, I'm heading towards L.A. to help out my brother, so . . ."

"I'm also writing you up for a busted taillight," the policeman said dully as he wrote the ticket, seemingly not caring at all about the reason behind Simon's U-turn.

Simon blinked. "I have one of those?"

"Sign here, Mr. Seville."

Simon took the pen the black policewoman at the front desk handed to him and signed his name at the bottom of the form, looking up once he was done to see Alvin being led down the hallway by a policeman. He smiled. Even after so many years, he and his brothers and the Chipettes hadn't changed. While they had adged and grown, their appearances certainly hadn't.

Alvin and Simon finally made eye contact with each other. While Simon's expression was unreadable, Alvin's expression was one of awe.

"Hey," Alvin said.

"Hey," Simon replied.

"You look taller than me, like, moreso than usual."

"Growth spurt."

"You came here for me?"

"Well, technically, you are still my brother, and I figured no one else would so-" The blue-clad chipmunk was suddenly taken aback by Alvin giving him a hug. It took him a couple of second to react. Without argument, he wrapped his arms around Alvin and petted his head.

"Sign out, Mr. Seville," a woman called.

Alvin and Simon walked over to a nearby desk and Alvin signed his name on a form before being given his possessions in a brown paper bag.

"So, where are we going?" Alvin asked. With his bag of things in his arms, he walked with Simon out the entrance doors.

"I'm going to pick up a friend and I'm kind of in a hurry," Simon said.

"Oh, yeah? And me?"

"So I'm just going to drop you off wherever you need to go," Simon replied. He unlocked his car door and got in as Alvin did the same.

The engine revved to life as Simon put the keys in the ignition and turned it. "

Alvin frowned. "Oh, that's cool, I guess. No bother to ask me if I want to come along or anything . . ."

Simon didn't appear to hear him. "Damn! I'm out of gas."

"Good. We can grab a bite to eat while we're at the gas station.."

Simon shook his head as he backed out of the parking space. "I swear, Alvin, your appetite is getting as bad as Theodore's."

"What's that supposed to mean?" the red-clad chipmunk demanded. "Simon? Simon?"

"What the hell have you done to my car?" Simon asked, staring in awe at the antennae sticking out of his hood.

"I got a CB radio put in it," Alvin replied, smiling as he munched on a sandwich. "The guy said he'd do it for fifty bucks."

Simon folded his arms and glared. "And you expect me to pay him, don't you?"

Alvin shook his head. "Nope. I've already paid him."

Simon shook his head. He should have known Alvin would do something like this, him having pulled into a gas station that was near an auto shop. "Come on, let's go."

Alvin frowned. "You're not hungry?"

"No, not really. Get in the car."

"You know, aside from the spring riding up my ass, this car isn't half-bad," Alvin said.

"Shut up," Simon snapped.

"Anybody out there? You got Black Sheep here sitting next to Mama's Boy. 10-4."

Simon let out a sigh of annoyance and glared at Alvin. "Would you stop messing with that thing? And could I please get a better handle than, 'Mama's Boy?'"

"Shush," Alvin barked, hearing something come over the radio.

"Weatherman says it's gonna rain," a deep, low male voice said. "I like the rain. It keeps everyone inside, you know."

"Hey, could you do, like a, uh, a woman's voice?" Alvin asked, extending the walkie-talkie towards Simon.

"What, you mean . . . you mean like the time we fooled Mr. Dempsey?"

Alvin nodded. "Yeah!"

"But that was back when we were nine. That was what my voice actually sounded like back then. I don't know if I could do it now."

"Just try. Get him all worked up, and then in the middle of it, say, 'Hey, guess what? I'm a dude.'"

Simon rolled his eyes. "All right." He grabbed the walkie-talkie and, speaking in a feminine voice, said, "Hey there, Black Sheep. This is Candy Cane. So we're meeting up tonight. Is that right?"

"That's right. I'll be seeing your beautiful ass in the PM, Candy Cane."

Simon looked over at Alvin. "Candy Cane? Can't I get a name more attractive?"

"Hush." His eyes fell on the CB radio.

"Hey, there, come on back," the dark male voice said.

Simon grabbed the walkie-talkie and spoke in the same feminine voice. "Hey there, who's this?"

The voice replied, "Rusty Nail. Is this Candy Cane?"

"Yeah, that's right. I sure hope you're doing better than I am, Rusty Nail. Boy, I tell you, this drive seems like it's taking forever."

"Roger that, Candy Cane."

"Tell him what you look like," Alvin suggested.

"So, listen, I'm five-foot ten. I have long blonde hair, blue eyes, long tanned legs . . ."

"This is turning even me on," Alvin noted.

Simon continued. "You know, what helps is sometimes pretending the person I'm talking to is sitting right next to me. I wish I was there with you, Rusty Nail. If I was, Rusty Nail, do you know what I'd do to you?"

"What?" Rusty Nail questioned.

"I'd make you feel good."

"You would?"

"Sure would? If I was there, what would you do to me? If I asked you, would you unbutton my blouse?"

"I, uh . . .," Rusty Nail stated. "I'm, uh . . ., I'm not good with stuff like this. I would."

"Ooh," Simon moaned gaily. "What would you do then?"

"I'd, uh, I'd take off your bra."

Alvin cackled. "Dude, these guys are such fucking horny perverts."

There was suddenly a crackling over the CB radio.

"Oh, no, no, no," Alvin panicked. "We can't lose this guy?" He fiddled with one of the knobs. He turned to Simon. "Say something!"

"I couldn't hear that, Rusty Nail. Come on back."

There was no response.

"Rusty Nail, sweetheart?"

No response.

"Damn it!" Alvin angrily hit the dashboard.

"What, did we lose him?" Simon asked.

Alvin sighed. "Yeah . . ."

Sighing, Simon set the walkie-talkie down, putting his hand back on the steering wheel alongside the other.

"'I'd take off your bra,'" Alvin quoted, laughing.

"That was so cruel, man," Simon objected.

Alvin frowned and looked forward. "So, who's this friend you're picking up?"

"Jeanette. She's up in Colorado, not too far from Denver."

"Wait. The blinker? The one's who's always going . . .?" He blinked his eyes rapidly.

Simon shook his head. "No, she's not like that anymore. You haven't seen her in five years, so you wouldn't know."

"So, uh, you, uh, you fucking her?"

Simon glared at him. "What?! No!"

"Okay, okay, you're not fucking her. But you want to."

Simon suddenly veered to the right.

"Dude," Alvin cried. "Road! Road! Road!"

Simon skidded to a halt once he was off the road and a brief silence fell over the two brothers.

"So, uh, you good to drive or you need me to drive or what?" Alvin asked.

"No more bullshit small-talk," Simon said sternly, "about me, my relationships, or my car." He glared at Alvin. "Got it?"

The red-clad chipmunk nodded his head slowly. "All right."

"Good." Simon jerked the steering wheel to the left and accelerated, proceeding to drive down the road.


	2. Midnight Desires

Chapter 2: Midnight Desires

Simon pulled over into a nearby motel.

Alvin let out a groan. "We're staying here?"

Simon sighed in annoyance and rolled his eyes. "Alvin, don't start."

Alvin nodded. "All right. I'm going to go see if there's a room available. I'll be right back." He opened the car door and hopped, out, immediately getting pelted by rain as he stepped out of the vehicle. He walked towards the main office.

"If one more maid knocks on my door at three in the morning asking about towels," an angry man spat towards the man at the front desk. "I'd like to speak to your boss, the manager, the white one, the one whose first language is fucking English!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Elinghouse," the man behind the desk said.

"Excuse me," Alvin said. "Can I get a room for the night?"

"Hey, buddy, I'm not through here," Mr. Elinghouse said angrily, jabbing a finger in Alvin's chest. "I haven't slept in three days, so you'd best not fuck with me. When I'm done here, then you can take care of your own shit!"

"Yo, dude, peace," Alvin said, performing the peace symbol hand gesture.

Mr. Elinghouse turned back to the man behind the desk. "Tomorrow morning I'm going to have a long talk with your boss, and then your brown ass is going!" He turned and roughly rammed into Alvin's shoulder, moving the red-clad chipmunk out of his way so he could leave the check-in room.

"Dick," Alvin mumbled. He approached the amn behind the desk.

Outside, Simon watched as Mr. Elinghouse got in his car. As the man did so, he glared at Simon, causing the blue-clad chipmunk to abruptly look away. He looked down when he heard Rusty Nail's voice coming over the CB radio.

"Candy Cane. Candy Cane, you there, sweetheart."

"Hey, did you see that fat fucking guy?" Alvin asked as he got in the car.

"Hush," Simon ordered.

"Cane Cane."

"You've got to be kidding me," Alvin said. "Have you talked back to him?"

Simon shook his head. "No."

Alvin suddenly smiled. "Tell him you want to meet up."

"What?"

"You're tired. You've pulled over for the night. Tell him you're staying at the Hard Rock Motel."

Simon grabbed the walkie-talkie "Hey there, Rusty Nail," he said in his feminine voice.

"Candy Cane," Rusty Nail stated. "I was afriad I'd lost you."

"Oh, I was just glad to know you're thinking about me. Listen, you wouldn't be interested in meeting up later on tonight, would you?"

"I thought you were meeting Black Sheep."

"Well, that was the plan, but why don't I just blow him off and get together with you instead?" When he heard no response he added, "Listen, I'll be in the Hard Rock Motel if you're interested. Make it midnight."

"Which room?"

Simon loked to Alvin for a suggestion.

"Room seventeen," Alvin said.

"What? No!"

"Come on, that dude sucks! He's an asshole! He's staying in room seventeen. We're staying in room eighteen. He totally body-checked me out when he left."

"Yeah, I know. I saw that."

"What?! You saw that?! And yet you're not jumping at this extraordinary opportunity to exact so much deserved revenge?! Come on, man! Co-" He punched Simon in the arm.

Simon was so amused by how pumped up Alvin was that he couldn't help but laugh at him. "Calm down, dude. Calm down." He added in the walkie-talkie, "Room seventeen."

"Pink champagne," Alvin added suddenly. "Tell him you like pink champagne."

"And," Simon added, "if there's any chance you could bring some pink champagne, it's my favorite."

"You got it, Candy Cane."

Simon sighed and put the walkie-talkie down. He looked over at Alvin. "It's done."

Alvin cackled. "This is awesome! That dude totally sucks, okay?"

Minutes later, Alvin and Simon lied on their own beds, a nightstand in between them on which a lamp and a digital clock stood. The lamp was their only means of light, aside from the television that was on. Right now Simon was switching the channels constantly, shaking his head at seeing nothing but commercials on.

"Do you ever miss home?" Alvin asked, looking over at his younger brother.

Simon nodded. "Somewhat. I miss Dave's sweet homemade pies. You, me, and Theodore each living a normal childhood. Oh, I'm sorry. That's someone else's childhood."

"How come you never call or anything?"

"'Cause I know exactly how it's going to go down. Dave's going to get on the phone and me and him are going to argue for over an hour about what I should be doing with my life." He shook his head. "It's not my fault I was overstressed and failed my mid-term exam." He suddenly turned towards the window to his left. "Did you hear something?" He slipped out of bed and crept over to the window. Pulling back the curtains, he looked out to see a semi-truck parked outside the motel. He turned to Alvin. "It's him! It's Rusty Nail! He's here!"

"Now?" Alvin asked. He looked over at the clock and he was taken aback to realize that it was midnight.

"Quick! Turn out the light!"

Alvin did so without hesitation and they both watched as the driver of the semi-truck got out. He was a big man, very muscular and masculine. Both brothers looked at each other worriedly, moreso Simon than Alvin, and they both watched as Rusty Nail entered room seventeen. At this point, both brothers moved quickly to the wall that was adjacent with their room.

"Hello?" Rusty Nail asked.

"Who the hell are you?" Mr. Elinghouse snapped.

"I, uh, brought the pink champagne?"

"What is this, some kind of joke?

"Are you Black Sheep?"

"Get the fuck out of here before I call the cops!"

Both brothers jumped as they suddenly heard a noise, the sound of scuffling on the ohter side of the wall, followed by a gagging sound, then nothing.

"That's weird," Simon commented.

"Yeah, no kidding," Alvin agreed.

"You know what I think? I think someone might've gotten hurt."

"No, we would've heard something."

"But we did. A gasp."

Alvin shook his head. "No, that wasn't a gasp; that was a laugh."

Simon walked over to the nightstand and turned on the lamp.

"What are you doing?" Alvin asked.

Simon ignored him as he dialed a number and sat down on Alvin's bed.

"Hello, front desk," a male voice said on the other line.

"Yeah, hi," Simon said, rather calmly. "This is Simon Seville from room eighteen."

"Hi, this is the drama queen from room eighteen," Alvin added, chuckling.

SImon ignored him. "Uh, we just heard a disturbance next door in room seventeen. We're afraid someone might've gotten hurt. Could you call and make sure that everything is okay?"

"Certainly, sir."

"Okay, thanks." He hung up and stared at his brother, his head turning suddenly to the wall to his right as he heard a phone ringing. He tried to listen in on what was being said, but couldn't. He heard the phone being put back on the receiver. He turned back to Alvin, and both jumped when their phone rang. He grabbed the phone while Alvin clutched at his chest. "Hello?"

"The man staying in room seventeen said that everything was fine," the man at the front desk said.

Simon nodded. "Okay. Thanks." He hung up yet again, his head automatically swiveling to the wall on the right upon hearing noise from the television next door. "Dude says everything is okay," he told Alvin.

Alvin grinned. "What'd I tell you?" He grabbed the chain lock and slid it along the lock. "Come on, let's get some sleep,"

Simon nodded his head in agreement and slipped in his bed while Alvin got in his own bed. Leaning forward, he switched off the lamp and prepared to go to sleep.

Outside, the semi-truck pulled away from the motel and continued to drive down the road.


	3. Highway Killer

Chapter 3: Highway Killer

Simon rose up, letting out a sigh as he felt the hot water making him more awake. He grabbed the nearest towel and dried off his face.

"Where you boys from?"

Hearing a voice behind him, Simon turned around to see Alvin speaking with a policeman outside the motel room door.

"L.A.," Alvin said. "Me and my brother-"

"Your brother?" the policeman asked. "Where is he?"

"Just inside," Alvin said, pointing. "So, anyway, my brother and me were just sitting in the room watching TV when we heard this noise."

"Could you describe the noise?"

Alvin nodded. "Yeah, sure. It was kind of like . . ." He tried his best at making a gagging sound. "No, wait . . . more like . . ." His second attempt was even worse.

Simon proceeded out the door and approached the pair. "What's going on here?"

"It is my understanding that you boys were here last night, all night, weren't you?" the policeman said to Simon.

The blue-clad chipmunk nodded his head. "Yes, why? Is something wrong?"

"We had an incident here last night," the policeman continued. "Did you boys look out your window, hear anything?"

"We heard some noises from next door," Alvin said, "and we called the night manager because we were concerned, right?" He looked to Simon for confirmation.

"Right," Simon agreed, nodding his head.

"So after you checked in, you didn't look out your window or anything?"

"No, sir," Alvin said.

"The night manager said that one of you had an altercation with the victim."

"Wait," Alvin said. "The night manager said what?"

"Apparently, one of you had words with the victim while you were checking in?"

Alvin blinked, a confused expression on his face. "Who?"

"Elinghouse," the policeman said. "Ronald Elinghouse."

"Wait, the huge guy?" Alvin guessed. "Yeah, I met him, but I didn't . . . I mean, I didn't . . . Wait, what? So the big guy is the victim?"

"Is he all right?" Simon demanded.

The policeman shook his head. "No. He was found comatose on the highway median. It wasn't comely."

Alvin blinked. "I'm sorry, I don't know what that means."

"Do either of you gentlemen have any idea who might have visited Mr. Ronald Elinghouse last night?"

Both brothers shook their heads.

"We were just watching television when we heard a noise from next door," Alvin stated.

"So you have no idea who might've visited Mr. Elinghouse last night?"

Alvin shook his head. "No, sir. I'm sorry. I wish we could be more helpful, but . . ."

The policeman smiled. "You know what I'm thinking? I'm thinking having a look-see might refresh-ify your memory."

Alvin and Simon were led to the hospital where Ronald Elinghouse was being kept. They stopped at the door and looked through the window to see Ronald Elinghouse lying in a hospital bed with the right side of his face bandaged up.

"Ripped his jaw clean off," the policeman said.

"Oh, God," Simon moaned, looking away in disgust.

Alvin could do nothing but look on at the scene in horror, a look of awe on his face. He and his brother had done this, and there was nothing he nor Simon could do to make it right.

CRASH!

A enormous file landed on the table that Simon and Alvin sat at, and the one that the sheriff stood behind.

"That is the pain in my ass," the sheriff said, "my own personal file of ongoing shit that I got to deal with. And guess what? Now I got me another one. Mr. Ronald Elinghouse lying nearly dead in my jurisdiction. And why? Because you little assholes thought you'd have some fun. Fuck! I'd keep you boys in custody if it would answer one of the millions of questions that need to be answered. But, no. All you know is his damn CB handle, and maybe he drives a truck. Do you have any idea of the shit that I have to put up with now because of what you assholes did! You!" He pointed and glared at Alvin. "You got out of jail when?! Yesterday?!" Placing his hands on the table, he leaned forward and glared at the two boys. "This is like an old-fashioned Western. I want you boys out of Wyoming before the sun goes down."

Alvin and Simon stepped out of the police car as it pulled up to the curb of the Hard Rock Motel. The car pulled away.

Alvin sighed. "I can't believe you told them."

"A man is in the hospital nearly dead because of what we did, Alvin," Simon said sternly.

"Oh, please." Alvin began walking towards their hotel room, hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweater.

"Okay, let me ask you something. You prank call a pizza joint and say you want thirty-seven pizzas delivered to your house, but you have them sent to your neighbor's. When the delivery guy gets there, your neighbor whips out an AK-47 and blows the guy to smithereens. Is that your fault?"

"Yeah, maybe it is," Alvin replied. "You can be the martyr all you want, but I'm not going to get worked up over some asshole I don't know dying."

"No, that's not what I'm doing, Alvin! I'm just trying to figure out how the hell we're going to walk away from this place after what we've done."

By now they were near their motel door. At this point, Alvin turned and smiled at Simon. "Just do what I do," he advised. "Just remind yourself that in seventy someodd years, your carcass is going to be rotting in a hole eight feet underground. That's the closest thing I've got to a philosophy."

"No, you know what?" Simon pushed past Alvin and marched over to the motel door. "I'm taking you to Denver, and that's that." He took out his motel and unlocked the door, walking in.

"Cool," was all Alvin could say.

Hours later, the sun was setting over the horizon as Simon drove down a four-laned highway. It was too long before night fell, but even before then Simon had the headlights on. He grabbed the walkie-talkie. "Eastbound looking for a westbound. Over." He set the walkie-talkie down and rested his hand back on the steering wheel.

"Candy Cane . . ."

Simon looked over at Alvin. The red-clad chipmunk had already fallen asleep. He roughly tapped Alvin on the shoulder, urging him to get up.

Sleepily, Alvin mumbled, "What is it, Simon?"

"Rusty Nail . . ." Simon hissed, pointing to the CB radio.

Alvin sat up completely and stared down at the CB radio, its green lights extending to the right, turning red as Rusty Nail spoke.

"Candy Cane, you there, sweetheart?"

Before Simon could, Alvin grabbed the walkie-talkie. "Hey, uh, man, what is your deal?"

At first, there was no response to his question, then . . .

"I need to find Candy Cane." There was an angry edge to his voice.

Alvin shook his head. "Go to twenty." He turned the knob on the CB radio, changing the channel to channel twenty-three. "So, you've been driving around all day looking for a voice."

"I need to find Candy Cane, and I think you can tell me where to find her."

"You need to find a good psychiatrist, not a psychologist, because you're gonna need some drugs. And you'd better find a damn good lawyer because the cops are going to b all over your ass!"

"Alvin, please don't do this," Simon begged.

Alvin continued, as if he hadn't heard Simon at all. "We saw what you did, you sick fuck! Candy Cane wanted me to tell you that she isn't interested in you or your pink champagne. Fuck!" In a fit of anger, he threw down the walkie-talkie.

"Gimme that!" Simon picked up the walkie-talkie. "Hey, there, Rusty Nail, hear this?" In his normal voice he added, "Look, that was me. I'm a guy! It was a joke. Just a joke . . ."

"Apologize," Rusty Nail ordered.

Simon handed Alvin the walkie-talkie. "Go ahead and do it."

"What, apologize?" Alvin questioned.

Simon nodded his head. "Yes, unless you want me to do it."

Alvin shook his head. "No." He pressed the button down. "Listen, you creepy, sick, messed-up, twisted motherfucker! You're not getting anything from me! And do you know why? It's because you're a sick, lonely freak! And I have something more powerful than your truck! It's called a volume knob, and the only thing I have to do to make you go away is turn it counterclockwise. You got that? You copy that?"

"You know, Black Sheep, you really ought to get that fixed," Rusty Nail stated.

"Get what fixed?!" Alvin yelled in the walkie-talkie.

"Your taillight."


	4. Apologize Accepted?

Chapter 4: Apology Accepted?

Alvin slowly turned his head to look out the back window.

"What do you see?" Simon asked.

"Nothing, just cars and trucks," Alvin replied, turning back around. "Just be cool."

"What, did he follow us from the motel?!"

"I don't know. Just drive."

"Oh, damn it!"

"What?"

"Look!"

Alvin leaned to the left to see that the needle on the fuel gauge was near the empty marker. "Oh, come on!"

"I know, I know!"

"Okay, relax. I think I saw a sign not too far back. We can get on the off-ramp at Winchester and get some gas there."

"How far is it?"

As if to answer Simon's question, the pair came across a sign: "Winchester, 73 miles."

Simon sighed. "Check the map."

Alvin nodded and grabbed the map that was lying in the pocket of his car door. Unfolding it, he mumbled, "Okay, let's see." He cleared his throat and switched on the light above him. After examing it for a while, he said, "Okay, there's a town near here."

"How far?" Simon demanded.

"I think maybe twelve miles."

"Alvin, we may not even make it twelve miles!"

"It's from my cuticle to my knuckle." He looked up and pointed. "This one! Take this exit right here!"

A semi-truck's horn blared as Simon suddenly veered to the right in order to get on the off-ramp.

Alvin looked behind him and smiled upon seeing that they weren't being followed.

"Yes!" Simon pounded the steering wheel with his fist. "Yes! You're a genius!"

"Well, I have my moments," Alvin replied.

Simon steered into an empty gas pump and he got out with Alvin. "Do you want to pay and I'll pump or-"

"I'll pump," Alvin replied.

Simon shrugged. "Okay. I'm going to go see if I can't get a hold of Sheriff Ritter." Stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweater, he started towards the store entrance.

Alvin grabbed the gas pump and jammed it in the gas tank once he'd selected which option he desired. He watched as the cost and the gallons sped up, turning his head only when he heard the loud roar of a semi-truck. He spotted a white semi-truck with the word "ice" written on it in red, the letters covered in what appeared to be either frost or snow. Alvin didn't particularly care. He watched as the truck pulled into the gas pump closest to him.

The driver got out. He was a somewhat corpulent man wearing a black leather vest over a gray T-shirt, leather pants, and black cowboy boots. His graying hair was shielded from the elements by a red bandana. In his hand he carried an aluminum baseball bat. Stooping down he tapped the tires to his truck with the head of the bat, creating a rather loud thump.

Alvin turned toward the window, where he could clearly see Simon on the phone. He turned his head slightly to the right, seeing the trucker enter the store. His eyes widened and he waved toward Simon, trying to get Simon's attention. "Hey," he hissed.

"Hello," a female voice said on the other line of the phone that Simon held in his hand. "Sheriff Ritter is currently unavialable." The blue-clad chipmunk turned his head to see a tough-looking guy enter the store. Looking out the window he could see Alvin's panicked expression and he got the message. "Please leave your name, phone number, and reason for calling at the end of the tone." He ignored this completely as he saw the man look towards him in the reflection of the receiver. As the tone sounded, he placed the phone back on its receiver and walked towards the checkout counter. He turned, about to leave.

"So you're just going to leave without paying for your gas?"

He turned to see a blond-haired woman standing behind the red counter. "Oh, yeah." He hurriedly removed his debit card from his wallet and handed it over, scribbling his name on the form he had to sign afterward. He left just as the woman was telling him to have a nice evening. He walked towards the car.

"Get in the car, get in the car, get in the car," Alvin ushered. He was already buckled in his seat.

Without hesitation, Simon got in the car as well and turned the key in the ignition.

"Go, go, go," Alvin cried.

Simon shifted into drive and stomped on the gas pedal, leaving the gas station just as the man was exiting. He turned onto the on-ramp, just barely missing getting hit by a passing semi-truck. The driver let their annoyance be known by their blaring horn. "Oh, shit, did we get on the wrong on-ramp?"

Alvin shrugged. "I don't know."

Simon shook his head, continuing to drive, deciding that it didn't really matter just as long as they were away from their pursuer. He suddenly stopped when he reached an iron gate blocking his path. "Oh, great."

"Shit!"

Upon Alvin's outcry, Simon turned his head to see a semi-truck behind them, its lights falling on the car and the gate in front of them. Watching from the rear-view mirror, he saw the driver get out and begin to call his name as the driver approached them.

"How does he know your name?" Alvin asked.

"Who cares?!" Simon snapped hotly.

"Hey, stay the fuck back, man! We got a gun!"

"And I got a Master Card," the driver said, rapping on Simon's window.

Simon rolled down his window, discovering the driver to be the same man he'd encountered in the store.

"You left this," the man said, handing over Simon's debit card.

Speechless, Simon took the debit card.

"I hope I didn't scare you boys," the driver said. "It wasn't the mustache, was it?"

"No," Alvin said, shaking his head.

"My old woman keeps telling me to shave it. I didn't mean to scare y'all."

"Thanks for doing this, man," Simon said. "That was real nice of you."

"No problem. Y'all have a nice night." He tapped Simon's door and walked off.

Turning to each other, both brothers burst into laughter.

"Oh, man," Alvin groaned. "I have never felt like a bigger pussy in all of my life." He got out of the car.

Simon did the same as the semi-truck began to pull away, emitting a loud beeping sound as it did so. "Hey, how much range does a CB radio have?"

Alvin shrugged. "I don't know. I'd say about five miles. Why?"

Simon didn't answer, his ears having picked up a mysterious sound. He turned to Alvin. "Do you hear that?"

Alvin nodded. "Yeah. What is that?"

Both brothers watched as the semi-truck turned, its entire right side now facing them, giving them a clear view of the word printed on it. A shower of ice suddenly burst forth from the truck as another semi-truck rammed through it as if the truck were made of paper.

"Oh, shit!" Alvin yelled. He and Simon wasted no time in getting back in the car as the truck raced towards them.

Simon slammed down on the gas pedal, tearing down the gate as he sped towards it.

"Oh, man, he's right on our ass," Alvin groaned, seeing the truck following them. He grabbed the walkie-talkie.

"No," Simon cried. "No, no, no, no, no! Don't use that!"

"Hello?" Alvin yelled. "Is anybody out there? Help us! Call 9-1-1!" He heard no response. "Damn it!" He threw down the walkie-talkie.

Braking, Simon steered to the right, making a sharp turn before doing the same around another corner, turning in the other direction. Seeing a turn to the left that led down in another direction, he quickly took it. He heard the brakes of the semi-truck hiss as it came to a halt, the driver having to completely turn in order to follow them.

Alvin looked over his shoulder and saw nothing but blackness behind them. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" He turned back around and his eyes widened. "Tree! Tree! Tree!"

Simon braked and jerked the steering wheel to the right, attempting but failing in missing the tree completely. The left side of the car rammed into the tree. At least they were safe. He stepped on the gas pedal, attempting to move forward. The tires screeched, creating smoke behind them, but didn't go anywhere. "Oh, come on."

Both jumped suddenly as lgiht flooded them and a horn blared in their ears. Both turned to see the grill of a semi-truck beside them. Their car was suddenly lifted up off the ground as the truck moved forward, pressing the car against the tree. The windows were smashed open, glass shattering and falling inside and outside of the vehicle.

"Hey, come on, man, don't kill us," Alvin yelled in the walkie-talkie. "We're sorry!"

The truck ceased its activity and Rusty Nail's voice came over the CB radio. "Why'd you do it?"

"Just for a laugh," Alvin whimpered. "Just for fun."

"A laugh?" Rusty Nail questioned.

"We were just playing with you, man/"

Rusty Nail chuckled. "Well, I was just playing with you, man." The truck backed up, its light above the mirror shutting off. Its headlights shut off once the truck was a good distance away.

"We're in Winchester," Simon told Jeanette outside of an auto shop. "We're going to head toward Colorado here pretty soon."

"You okay?" Jeanette asked.

Simon nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just been a long drive."

"O-Okay. Well, I guess I'll be seing you soon."

"Mm-hmm."

"Great. See you soon."

Simon hung up and walked over to Alvin, who was sitting on an old worn seat. "They fixed the taillight."

Alvin chuckled.

"How 'bout you come home with me?" Simon questioned Alvin as they drove down the road. "Blow off Denver and come home with me."

Alvin shook his head. "Nah, I'll be all right."

Simon shrugged. "Okay, as long as you're sure."

Alvin detached the CB radio along with its walkie-talkie and tossed it out the window. The machine skidded along the road before coming to a halt due to hitting the guard rail.

Simon rapped on Jeanette's door, causing the brown-haired Chipette to look up at him. He led her outside to the car, where Alvin sat on the trunk door, looking around the campus.

"The color's not great," Simon said, "but it's spacious."

Wide-eyed Alvin watched as Jeanette approached. She wasn't the geeky teenage girl that he remembered as a kid. Rather, she was a beautiful, tall, tanned brown-haired woman with a nice pair of glasses that really seemed to complement her gray eyes. "Wow!"

The two finally reached Alvin. Jeanette hugged him. "How've you been?"

"Good," Alvin replied, nodding his head. He pulled away from her so he could get a better look. "Turn around. Let me get a good look at ya." She twirled on the spot and he gawked at her legs as her dressed gave him a full view of such. "Wow! You look, uh, um . . ."

A car pulled up alongside them, interrupting Alvin in the middle of his compliment. "Hey, Jeanette," the driver, a Virginia opossum, said, smiling at the brown-haired Jeanette.

"Hey, Brenda." Jeanette leaned down and gave the opossum a hug. "I'd like to introduce you to the famous Seville brothers, including the infamous Alvin Seville."

"Didn't you guys used to be a three-man group?" Brenda asked.

"Yes," Simon said, nodding his head.

"Used to be," Alvin added sadly.

"Our brother Theodore is living at home with his fiance running his catering business from home," Simon explained.

"Guys, this is Brenda Connors," Jeanette said, introducing the Virignia opossum to the two chipmunks. "She'll be my roommate next year." She smiled down at her. "So, where you going?"

"Up north," Brenda replied, "to Vancouver, B.C. I'm staying with my boyfriend and his family for the summer. It was his mom's idea. She says she wants to get to know me before I marry him."

"Smart woman," Simon stated.

"Well, we won't keep you," Jeanette said. She planted a friendly kiss on Brenda's cheek. "Love you."

"Love you too. I'll see you next semester."

Jeanette nodded and watched as the car sped off.

"Oh, that is so like Brenda," Alvin said, "waving and driving off like that."

Jeanette smiled at the two brothers. "So, you guys ready for an adventure?"


	5. Somebody's Watching Me

Chapter 5: Somebody's Watching Me

"Hey!"

Simon opened his eyes and turned his head to look across from him, though he still lied on his side from his position during when he'd been napping. His vision cleared and he smiled when he noticed that it was Jeanette leaning in the car through her window, smiling at him, holding something out to him.

"Look what I got you," she added.

He took the object. It was a hat with a phrase stitched on it: "I love my car," with the word "love" symbolized by a big red heart. He smiled while she got in the car and he sat up and fully turned his body around to face her.

She smiled at him. "Listen, I can't think you enough for doing this for me." She shook her head. "Honestly, I don't know what I would have done if I'd had to stay at university during my entire break."

He chuckled. "No problem. You know I'd do anything for you." He reluctanlty brought his arm forward to lie it across the back of the front seats and the two of them began to lean forward.

Alvin, who had been sleeping in the backseat, suddenly popped up between the two. "This is the part where you kiss her," he told Simon.

Simon groaned and turned away while Jeanette started the car and backed out of the parking space.

"Simon?" Alvin sked.

Simon ignored Alvin as they pulled out of the gas station and continued to drive down the highway.

It was nightfall by the time the gang reached their destination. They decided to pull over for the night and get a room. After getting their room key, Jeanette and Simon began heading towards their room, while Alvin began heading in the other direction.

"Alvin, where are you going?" Simon demanded. He pointed. "The room's this way."

"Yeah, but the bar's this way," Alvin noted as he kept walking, hands shoved in the pockets of his sweater.

"Here's to . . ." Alvin said, lifting his shot glass. He suddenly stopped, stumped.

"To Nebraska," Jeanette exclaimed, also raising her shot glass, along with Simon.

"To States?" Alvin questioned, clinking his shot glass with Simon and Jeanette's. "Okay." He reared his head back and downed his shot of scotch along with Simon and Jeanette.

Simon slapped the table. "Can we get a couple of martinis, please?"

"Sure thing," the waitress agreed.

"Hey, any of you hungry?" Alvin asked. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving."

"I could go for something to eat," Jeanette agreed. She turned to her boyfriend. "Simon?"

Simon glanced down at the menu, muttering to himself, "Okay, let's see. What looks good here?" He sputtered his lips, his gaze drifting down the menu. "Hmm. Who's in the mood for ice cream?"

Alvin and Jeanette stared at each other for a few moments before making their decision.

"Hmm, sounds good to me," Alvin agreed, nodding his head along with Jeanette.

Mountain Fudge Cake was the dessert that the group picked to eat. The picture on the menu made the item look a lot smaller than it really did. The item, in reality, took up nearly half of the table and the group could barely look at each other since the item blocked their vision.

"Well," Simon said, picking up his fork, "dig in."

Reluctantly, Jeanette and Alvin did the same. Noticing that there were three separate cherries on top, Jeanette noted, "Did you know I could tie a cherry stem into a knot with my tongue?"

"No, I didn't know that," Simon replied.

"How 'bout we have a little contest to see who can do it the fastest?" Alvin suggested.

Simon groaned and rolled his eyes. "Alvin, do you really have to turn everything into a competition?"

"I'm game," Jeanette declared, smiling.

Alvin smiled at Simon.

SImon groaned. "Fine." He picked off his cherry, along with Alvin and Jeanette.

"Ready," Jeanette said. "Set. Go!"

All three popped their cherries into their mouths, quickly devoured them, then shoved the stems to their cherries into their mouths and went about attempting to tie the stems into knots with their tongues. After a few seconds, Jeanette proudly removed her stem from her mouth, showing that what she had said was indeed the truth, for she had successfully tied her stem into a knot. A few seconds afterward, Alvin himself was triumphant in attempting the same thing. Only Simon was the one who had failed in his mission. He spat out the stem onto the table, shaking his head.

"Not even bent," Alvin said, laughing along with Jeanette. "You suck, dude!" He laughed harder while Simon glared at him.

"Well, here we are," Alvin announced as they reached Jeanette's hotel room. He had to admit that he was a bit shocked by the fact that Simon and him were sharing a room instead of Simon sharing a room with Jeanette. "Here you go." He went to hand her the keys, only to drop them at the last minute. Cursing under his breath, he stooped down and picked them up and gingerly handed the key to her.

"Thank you," Jeanette said.

"What are you doing over here?" Simon said, walking over to the pair. "You flirting with my girl, Alvin Seville?"

"No, we were just talking," Alvin replied.

Simon grinned. "Yeah, I bet you were . . ."

"Okay, I'm going to go into my room now, if that's okay with you guys," Jeanette replied. "I'll see you guys tomorrow morning, okay?"

"Sweet dreams," Alvin stated as she departed into her hotel room.

It wasn't long afterward that Simon and Alvin arrived at their hotel room. Flicking on the light and closing the hotel door, Alvin dumped his things by the door while Simon diligently placed his things by his bedside, too tired to bother with putting them away. There would be no need for him to do anyway, seeing as they would only be staying in the hotel for one night before hitting the road as soon as they were done with breakfast. They each lied down on their own beds, Alvin clumsily feeling around for the remote before turning to Simon and asking if he wanted to watch anything. The blue-clad chipmunk merely nodded his head and the TV flickered on, flashing from black to colored images as Alvin began channel surfing, finally settling on a bad movie. He set the remote on the bedside table that rested between their beds, folding his hands behind his head, and letting out a sigh of content as he crossed one ankle over the other.

After a half-hour, Alvin looked over to see that Simon was fast asleep, the blue-clad chipmunk's back to him. "Simon?" When the blue-clad chipmunk didn't respond, he was called a little louder, only to receive the same treatment. He looked over at the TV to see that the film was still playing. He shrugged his shoulders. It wouldn't hrut to leave the TV on while he went out for a walk. Possibly, if she was still awake, he would stop by Jeanette's and have a friendly chat with her. With that, he slipped out the hotel room and started towards the hotel room that belonged to Jeanette.

The brown-haired Chipette seemed to be puzzled as to why Alvin was bothering her so late at night, but she wasn't annoyed in any way. She stepped aside, allowing him inside. He walked in, observing the hotel room, only to be disappointed that it didn't look much different from his and Simon's. He sat down at one end of her bed while she walked to the kitchen that was across from her room.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked. "Something to drink, maybe?"

"Yes, please," he agreed, nodding.

She nodded her head and went to the fridge, only to be disappointed to discover that the only thing within it was a carton of orange juice, which luckily wasn't past the expiration date. She turned her head slightly and called, "Orange juice okay with you?"

"Fine!"

She grabbed two glasses from the cabinet above her and fixed two glasses of orange juice before taking them in the room and handing one to Alvin, smiling when he thanked her and gratefully took the drink and sipped it while she sat down beside him, taking a drink of her own orange juice. "So, is Simon okay? What's up with him?"

He waved his hand. "Oh, I'm sure he's fine. He's probably just stressed out about school or something." He took another drink of his orange juice.

"Are you sure?"

He nodded his head. "Don't worry too much about him."

Simon was jarred awake from his slumber by the phone ringing. After calming down, he mumbled, "Alvin, could you get that?" He heard nothing. "Alvin?" He rolled over to see that Alvin was gone. He'd have to answer the phone himself. He crawled over to the bedside table and picked up the phone, putting the speaker to his ear and speaking into the receiver. "Hello?"

"Now, I thought you said there was no girl," a voice said.

Simon froze. It was Rusty Nail! "Th-there is no girl."

"Then tell me what she's doing in her room . . . with your brother."


	6. Ghost Radio

Chapter 6: Ghost Radio

Simon burst through the hotel door of Jeanette's hotel room. "Rusty Nail's out there!"

"He's out there?!" Alvin cried, leaping off the bed.

"Who's Rusty Nail?" Jeanette demanded.

"Did he talk to you?" Alvin asked.

Simon nodded. "Yeah. He called me on the phone and he said, 'I thought there was no girl.' And I told him that there wasn't. Then he asked me, 'Then what's she doing in her room with your brother,' which I have to admit is a pretty good fucking question."

"What do we do?" Alvin inquired.

"We pack our shit and get the fuck out of here," Simon elaborated.

"I just unpacked," Jeanette explained.

"Pack your stuff," Simon commanded.

"How scared do you want me to be, Simon?!" She leaped off her bed.

The phone started ringing and all three parties froze, their eyes fixed on the device.

"Much more so than usual," Alvin replied.

The group exited the hotel room, running as fast as possible, looking over their shoulders periodically to see if they were being followed. They all shrieked in fright as they suddenly turned their heads and came face to face with someone before running past him to the car. Simon had already thrown his and Alvin's things into the car. They hopped and Simon quickly backed out of the parking space and sped down the highway.

"Okay, what's going on?" Jeanette demanded, glaring at Simon. "The truth!"

"I didn't want to tell you what was going on because I didn't want to freak you out," Simon explained, the drama seeming to control how fast the car was speeding.

"Well, what is going on?" She turned to Alvin for an explanation, leaving Simon to his driving.

As he continued to speed down the highway, Simon noticed a highway sign spray painted in black. There was only one single word written on it: "Look." He sped up, only to pass yet another sign spray painted in black, this one with two words on it: "In the." He sped up even more until finally passing what seemed like the third and last sign that had been apparently written specifically for him and the gang, all written by Rusty Nail. Just like with the first sign there was only one single word written on the sign: "Trunk." He suddenly pulled over onto the side of the road, slamming on the brakes, jerking him, Jeanette, and Alvin forward. Both Jeanette and Alvin glanced at him, giving him surprised expressions.

"Simon, what the hell?!" Alvin demanded.

"He wants us to look in the trunk," Simon declared.

The three of them got out of the car and went to the back of the vehicle where the trunk was located.

"Well," Alvin said, "go ahead, Simon. Open it up."

The car keys dangling in his grasp, Simon shook his head. "I don't know, man. Who knows what's in there?"

"Will you just open up the trunk, please?" Alvin asked.

"Alvin, for all we know, there could be a bomb in there!"

Shaking her head, Jeanette snatched the keys from Simon and leaned forward, unlocking the trunk and flinging the door open, making Simon and Alvin both flinch at what could possibly be within the confines of the trunk. She took a couple of steps back so the boys could see what was inside the trunk. There, carefully placed in the center, was the CB radio.


	7. Kidnapped

Chapter 7: Kidnapped

"Candy Cane? Candy Cane, sweetheart?"

"Don't respond," Simon ordered. "Let him talk all he wants, just tell me where we're going."

Alvin grabbed the map and began looking at it, using a flashlight as his main source of light.

"You know what they do to dead bodies when nobody claims 'em?" Rusty Nail went on. "They take apart the body. The start with the jaw. They cut off the person's jaw."

Alvin tried his best to block out the voice by concentrating on the map. He was having a hard enough time reading the map properly due to how little light he had.

Jeanette also ignored the voice by looking out her window, although there wasn't much to see, mainly just the green pastures that they sped by, and the occasional sign that they would pass. She turned to the CB radio, however, when she heard some whimpering in the background, and she turned up the volume to see if she could place the voice of the person. When she realized who it was, her eyes widened and she whispered, "Oh, my God," prompting Simon to look at her.

"What is it?" he asked. He looked over his shoulder at Alvin to see that his older brother was still fiddling with the map, struggling to figure out where they were and where they were going. He turned back to Jeanette.

"That's Brenda," Jeanette replied.

Simon's eyes widened. "What, you mean your roommate?"

"Yes!"

"Brenda says hi," Rusty Nail stated, laughing. "Don't go to the police. And if you do go to the police, I will cut her to pieces, starting with her fingers and her toes. Understood?"

Jeanette looked at Simon worriedly, but looked away when she noticed that he wasn't looking at her.

"Oh, boys," Rusty Nail added.

Alvin looked up from the map and at the CB radio.

"I want you to do something for me," Rusty Nail continued. "Drive to where I tell you to. Let me know when you get there."

Simon nodded his head in agreement.

"Is this where he said to go?" Alvin asked, gazing at the cornfield out his window.

Simon nodded. "This is where he said to go." He opened his car door and got out, Jeanette and Alvin doing the same.

The air around them was foggy, making it difficult to see. The fog was suddenly eliminated, however, as a pair of bright headlights suddenly shined on them.

"Oh, shit," Simon yelled, dashing into the cornfield, Alvin and Jeanette following close behind him while the semi-truck gave chase.

They each went their separate ways, and the semi-truck gave chase to Jeanette. She ran as fast as her long legs would carry her, looking over her shoulder every so often to see that the semi-truck was drawing ever closer to her. Unfortunately, she wasn't looking where she was going and she tripped into a pit, which turned out to be good luck for her since the truck kept moving as she fell, its tires riding along on either side of the pit. Staying perfectly still, she watched as the semi-truck backed away. Only when it was a short distance away from her was it that she crawled out of her hiding space and made a run for it.

The semi-truck came to a halt in the middle of the cornfield and began scanning the area with the spotlight just above the door mirror, a gloved hand moving it back and forth, the bright light creating a nice contrast against the darkness that surrounded the somewhat still cornfield.

As the light passed over her, Jeanette ducked to keep herself hidden. She heard a song by Patsy Cline playing in the background, followed by the sound of a door opening and closing, and then footfalls drawing closer and closer. She looked around frantically to see who it was, but didn't have enough time to do so before two gloved hands grabbed her mouth and began pulling her.

Hearing the semi-truck backing away, Simon made his way to one empty space of the cornfield. He watched as the semi-truck drove away, but his head was jerked away as he heard the distinct sound of footfalls and the ears of corn rustling as whoever it was approached him. He decided to be brave and called out, "Jeanette?"

"No, it's just me." Alvin emerged from the ears of corn, brushing himself off.

"Where's Jeanette?"

Alvin shrugged. "I don't know where she is."

Simon growled and angrily shoved Alvin. "What the fuck, man?!"

Alvin shoved Simon back with more force. "What about you, where the fuck were you?!"

Before Simon could respond, both of them saw a hint of orange on the ears of corn out of the corner of their eyes and they turned to see that their car was on fire. Faintly, they could hear Rusty Nail calling, "Candy Cane. Come in, Candy Cane." The two of them rushed over to the car.

Simon dived into the car and grabbed the walkie-talkie. "Where is she?"

"She's fine," Rusty Nail replied, "don't worry."

"Listen, we'll do whatever you want! Just don't hurt her!"

"Meet me at the nearest hotel, room seventeen, midnight. Do not be one minute late. Don't call the cops."

Alvin tugged on Simon's legs, attempting to get his brother out of the burning vehicle, but Simon wasn't budging.

"Oh," Rusty Nail added, "and if there's any chance you can bring some pink champagne, it's my favorite."

Simon dropped the walkie-talkie as Alvin managed to get him out of the vehicle just as it was exploding. Shards of glass and metal flew everywhere and the two of them took off.


	8. Hotel Roulette

Chapter 8: Hotel Roulette

"Ugh! We've been walking for hours!" Alvin let out a groan due to his tired feet. He was nearly flipped onto his back when he bumped into Simon's outstretched arm. He glared at his younger brother, then followed Simon's line of vision and smiled upon seeing what Simon was looking at. He was startled, however, when Simon began dashing towards the restaurant. "He said not to call the cops!" He groaned in discomfort before taking off after his brother.

"All right, we need some wheels," Simon stated, running over to an abandoned pickup truck. He looked around before gently opening the door and sliding into the driver's seat while Alvin stood by the passenger door. He found what he was looking forward and began fiddling with the wires, only to be stopped shortly afterward as a man came outside. Simon lifted his head and smiled nervously. "Uh . . . hello."

"Having some car trouble?" the man asked.

Simon silently let out a sigh of relief and he nodded his head. "Yeah."

"And he wonders why I drive a Toyota," Alvin joked, chuckling.

Simon continued to fiddle with the wires.

"Wait a coupla seconds," the man suggested.

Simon did as he was told and to his surprise, the truck roared to life.

"There it goes," the man said, smiling.

Simon twisted the wires together and put the truck into reverse while Alvin got in the passenger side and buckled his seatbelt. "Thank you."

"Anytime, firend," the man replied.

The two backed out of the parking space. Just as they were turning onto the road, the rightful owner of the truck came bursting through the door of the restaurant and shouting, "Hey, where in the hell do you think you're going with my truck?!"

"All right, he said to meet him at the nearest hotel," Simon said.

"Oh, shit," Alvin muttered.

Simon looked over at him. "What?" When Alvin pointed forward, he followed Alvin's finger and his mouth dropped as there appeared to be at least four different hotels on either side of them, two on the left and two on the right.

"He never told which hotel!"

"Well, we're going to have to go to each one individually."

Alvin groaned. "Great."

The sound of Scotch tape being ripped was clearly heard in Jeanette's ears. She sat in a chair, her hands tied behind it and her feet taped to the legs of the chair, her mouth sealed shut by some tape that had been placed over her mouth. Before her was a shotgun, it also with a string of tape attached to it that ran to the doorknob of the hotel door, done in such a way so that when the door was opened, the trigger would be pulled, thus firing the gun at her. Out of the corner of her eye she watched as Rusty Nail approached the telephone and began dialing a number while country music played in the background. From the amount of numbers he dialed and from the position of his finger on the dialpad, she could easily tell that he was dialing 911.

"Yes, I'd like to report some dead bodies," Rusty Nail stated. He hung up after that before anyone could ask him where the incident had taken place.

Alvin sighed in annoyance. "It's not this one either."

Simon ignored him and continued to stare at the potbellied black man who had answered the door. The man had a bottle of beer in his hand. Already he and Alvin had been invited inside to join what appeared to be a small get together that the man was hosting. He turned and was followed by Alvin. "Relax, Alvin. We only have two more hotels to go to." He opened his door and got in. He had left the truck running seeing as how he and Alvin wouldn't be out of it for too long. As soon as Alvin was safely buckled inside, he took off across the road to the next two hotels.

The first hotel that they went to turned up with no results, leaving them only with the hotel across from it. Simon took up two parking spaces before leaping out of the car and bursting through the hotel door of room seventeen, only to find himself coated in nothing but darkness. He was knocked to the floor as Alvin collided into him and both boys quickly picked themselves up, feeling around due to lack of light. Due to the silence, both jumped when they suddenly heard the telephone ringing. Once again having to rely on their senses they allowed their sense of hearing to lead them to the telephone. Shakily, Simon picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hello, boys," Rusty Nail said, chuckling.

"Where's Jeanette?" Simon demanded, glowering.

"Cool your jets, slick. She's fine." He chuckled once again. "Doesn't feel good, does it, boys? When you're getting the short end of the stick. Your heart racing. Your blood pumping. You feel sweaty, and all of your emotions are all jumbled into one so that you're not sure how to feel at the moment."

Alvin listened carefully and he motioned for Simon to follow him. Carrying the telephone with him, Simon nodded and followed, also picking up on what Alvin was hearing.

"Listening through the wall," Rusty Nail continued.

Alvin stopped and pressed his ear to the wall, Simon doing the same in front of him, both hearing Rusty Nail both on the phone and through the wall.

"That's what you boys were doing, weren't you?" Rusty Nail went on. "Listening to what was going on through the wall?"

"Keep him busy," Alvin hissed to Simon. "I'm going to go see if I can't find a way to get in through the back."

Simon nodded his head.

"Don't bother trying to get in through the back," Rusty Nail advised. "I'll tell you exactly where I'm at. I'm in room eighteen. Feel free to drop on by."

Alvin nodded his head to show that he understood, but nevertheless, he was going to try to find a way into the room through the back while Simon attempted to get in through the front entrance. Finding his way to the back was a mere few feet for Alvin, the back just being around the corner from the side of the building. After pushing aside some planks of wood that were out of place, he made his way to the back, looking through the windows to see if he could find Jeanette. He stumbled several times, hitting his knee on some planks of wood in the process. He groaned in pain but managed to keep his voice down nonetheless. He began to lose hope as he continued to search through the windows, but his lost faith quickly turned to relief as he soon found Jeanette sitting in a chair in the room that Rusty Nail had specified. He let out a sigh of relief.

He gasped and stumbled backward, falling on his back when a pair of eyes met his and a pair of big, strong hands reached out for him, tearing through the wood covering up the window as if it was nothing but paper. He watched, eyes wide, as Rusty Nail towered over him, the man's eyes seeming to be the only things about him that were glowing. Instead of hurting him, however, Rusty Nail picked him up and carried him over to the window, holding him in a headlock. "Watch this," he whispered in Alvin's ear. "It's gonna be hilarious."

Simon reached forward and gently gripped the doorknob, his heart racing, his palm sweaty, his entire arm shaking.

Rusty Nail's hand covered Alvin's mouth. He bit down on Rusty Nail's thumb, causing the man to release him. Seeing his chance, Alvin shouted at the top of his lungs, "Don't open the door! Don't open the door! Don't open the door!"

Clearly hearing Alvin, Simon withdrew his hand from the knob.

Alvin was struck across the face, causing him to fall to his back on the ground. He quickly backed away as Rusty Nail approached him. Feeling something caress his back he turned his head to see that there was a wooden fence behind him. He was trapped! He turned his head back around to see that Rusty Nail was once again towering over him. He followed Rusty Nail's line of vision and discovered that his leg was resting above a nail. To his horror, Rusty Nail lifted his foot and pressed down on his leg, pressing the nail into his leg, making him squirm and cry out in pain.

Once again, having heard Alvin's cries of pain, Simon rushed around the side of the building to get to the back in order to aid his older brother.

Meanwhile, several patrol cars arrived at the hotel. A couple of them went to the front desk to ask about the dead bodies reported, only to find the receptionist and manager lying dead on the floor. Once it was apparent that there was a killer hanging around the hotel, the police officers began to go around kicking open the hotel doors and inspecting the rooms, several taking a door at a time, thus allowing them to cover more rooms and save time, and as they continued this routine they drew closer and closer to room eighteen.

Simon finally reached the back of the hotel to find that a long nail was protruding from Alvin's knee. He grimaced at the sight of the bloody tip of the nail, but he quickly recovered and began to attempt to lift Alvin up off the nail, only to have his older brother wince in pain and request for him to stop almost immediately as soon as his rump was lifted off the ground. Simon set him back down and quickly looked around for Rusty Nail, only to find that the driver was nowhere in sight. He sighed in relief and once again attempted to lift Alvin off the bloody nail.

"Room seventeen, clear!"

Hearing this, Alvin ordered, "Simon, don't worry about me! Go get Jeanette! Hurry!"

Simon wasted no time in following his older brother's orders. He tore through the window and leaped for Jeanette just as the door swung open and the shotgun was fired.


	9. Conclusion?

Chapter 9: Conclusion?

Jeanette's heavy, muffled breathing told Simon that she was still alive. It wasn't until he felt like his chest was being constricted that he realized that he was holding his breath and he let it out in a sigh of relief. He looked up to see several police officers pointing their guns at him, probably believing that he was the one who had killed the receptionist and the manager and the one who had put Jeanette in the trap that had gone off.

"Don't move," one of the police officers ordered Simon. "Stay on the ground where I can see you!"

Simon slowly got to his feet, helping Jeanette up in the process, the gun in the officer's hands following him with every move he made.

"I said don't move," the police officer shouted angrily, still aiming his gun at Simon.

Simon turned his head around once he heard Alvin calling his name. He turned back to the officers.

"Don't move," the same police officer shouted.

Simon head went back and forth, struggling with indecision. If he moved he would be shot, but if he didn't move then who knew what danger Alvin could be in, and his older brother was pinned to the ground by a nail that was piercing his leg all the way through. If Rusty Nail was still alive, then chances were that Alvin could be in serious trouble and would end up dead if Simon didn't do something to protect his older brother. With that, he made a dash for the window and leaped through, somehow avoiding the gunshots that were shot his way with every move that he made. He met up with Alvin at the back of the hotel and once again attempted to pry Alvin off the nail that was piercinng his leg. Hearing Alvin give out a cry of alarm caused him to turn his head around and to his horror he saw the headlights of Rusty Nail's truck blinding him. He lifted a hand to see properly, squinting his eyes, but couldn't make out anything other than the bright lights targeted at him and his brother. He screamed in fright as the semi-truck began to drive towards them.

"Get those hands up," a police officer ordered Simon as he and his team reached the pair.

Simon pointed to the truck in front of them, trying to draw the officer's attemtion away from him and his brother. He sighed in relief when the officers all turned and opened fire on the truck when the driver didn't stop as ordered. Bullets pelted the windshield and the headlights and the mirrors and the spotlights above the mirrors. Still, the truck continued to drive forward as if the driver wasn't disconcerted about the fact that officers were shooting up his vehicle. As the truck drew ever closer to the hotel, Alvin began to panic and Simon boosted his efforts to pry Alvin off the nail, eventually succeeding and getting out of the way just as the truck ran through the wall and into the room that Jeanette had been held captive in, the wall being completely destroyed by the mammoth truck.

Cautiously, the two brothers and the police officers made their way to the truck, smoke emitting from underneath the hood, making it hard to see. Beams of light from flashlights zigged and zagged across the black exterior of the truck. Hearing crying, one of the officers nodded his head to one of his comrades and the police officer made his way closer to the truck, gently opening up the driver's door and peering inside, only to find that there was no driver. Instead, crying was heard, made much louder now that the door was open. In the back of the truck was Brenda Connors, bound and gagged while she sobbed uncontrollably.

"Thanks," Alvin said, grateful for the paramedic's assistance with bandaging up his leg. He smiled at Simon as the blue-clad chipmunk patted him on the back.

Jeanette was seated by Simon, sheltered by a blanket that she had wrapped around her body. She turned her head to Simon and smiled at him, reassuring him that she was all right when she noticed that he had a look of concern on his face. She patted his hand and gently said, "I'm okay, really."

Simon nodded his head and walked over to a nearby payphone while the paramedics tended to people who needed meical care and the police officers questioned the others who weren't injured, taking down notes so they could get to the bottom of what had happeend. Grabbing the phone and depositing his money, he dialed a number, waiting patiently for someone to answer.

"Hello?"

Simon smiled at hearing Theodore's voice. "Hey, Theodore, it's me, Simon."

"Oh, good! You haven't called within the past few days, so I was getting worried. How's Alvin?"

"He's fine."

"Put him on. I want to talk to him."

Simon nodded and motioned for Alvin to pick up the phone. His older brother nodded and walked over to him, taking the phone and speaking into.

"Alvin, how have you been?" Theodore asked.

"F-Fine," Alvin replied. "Listen, is it okay if I come stay with you and Simon for a while? I want to come home." Once he was off the phone, he put the phone back on the receiver and sat down next to Simon. "So, how long do you think it'll be before we get back home?"

Before Simon could answer, the three of them turned their heads as they heard a familiar voice over the CB radio in the ambulance.

"Weatherman says it's gonna rain. I like the rain. It keeps everyone inside, you know."


End file.
